That adolescent me, the girl who was, as I remember her, insecure, unsure, dreaming, yearning, longing, that girl who was hard on herself, who was co….

All the inane, meaningless noises people make that pass for intelligent conversation. They might as well be pigs grunting in the pen. (92).

A piece of writing takes exactly as long as it needs to be done right..

Friendship...is like pain. Explaining it is impossible..

I guess, really thinking about it, I always assumed when you missed someone , it was tangible...something real you could grab and hold on to, but it'….